Is It Weird That I’m In Love With My Dog?

A collection of pics with a puppy smile that’ll make you fall in love with her too

My dog Sydney has been with me through more than anyone else I know.

She isn’t necessarily the longest friend I’ve had, but she’s been the one closest by my side through it all.

A girl’s best friend

Look at that smile.

I met Sydney in 2013, shortly after I’d returned from the Australian city of the same name. My ex was preparing to go overseas for a while, and we agreed I would do better with a furry friend.

I had no idea how deeply this dog would touch my life.

My plan was to spend six weeks looking for the right dog

Every weekend, a local rescue organization brought out a bevy of animals to be rescued or just cuddled with for a little while (which is its own little mini rescue imo). I first saw Sydney — at the time named Joanne — on the sidewalk with lots of other dogs hoping to be adopted.

My plan was to spend six weeks looking for the right dog, but I looked in her eyes and knew I’d spend the next six weeks searching for a dog just like her.

Her quiet eyes made me feel the inverse of that moment in Jurassic Park. You know when the hunter guy says he looks in the eyes of a raptor and can tell they’re looking right back?

With Sydney, despite the loud chaos around her, people and dogs and cats alike contributing to the clamor, she looked in my eyes, and I looked right back.

All I’d ever known was the same kind of loud chaos I found her in. I wanted a friend who would meet me in the quiet.

And what a friend I found, because when she’s not smiling, she’s sleeping.

Honoring the time we have together

As I get closer to the age Frasier hilariously realized too late is actual middle age, I find myself thinking more on mortality and the full length of a life.

Frasier: Niles, I'm forty-one.  That's hardly middle-aged.  Middle age is more like fifty, fifty-five.
  Niles: Only if you live to be one hundred and ten.

Sydney is a little dog. Barely 14lbs. Which means she’s kinda vulnerable, but it also means she’ll live a long time. And with her passing eleven-ish or so years old, that means we’re both probably well over halfway to the end.

My heart breaks thinking of what it will feel like when it’s time for Sydney to pass. She taught me to love. She helped me share her calmness when I had none to share with her. She pawed at me to get out of the goddamn apartment when I felt myself collapsing inward. She showed me her emerging smile and the difference in a dog who feels content vs a dog who cannot help but share her joy.

She helped me find so much joy that I can’t help but share mine, too.

But more than that, she helped me find gratitude in moments that once would have crushed me.

None of us are here forever

When I think of her one day passing, I remember a melancholy eulogy whose original source my internet sleuthing cannot find.

It was written as though from a dog to a person mourning that soul’s passing.

The dog told the person to mourn them, yes. But to take all that was wonderful about their life together and look on it with gratitude. The dog and their person worked hard to be good to each other and for each other. They learned as much from each other as they taught.

None of us are here forever. To have given that dog such a full life is reason for joy alone.

And then there is more

I’ll probably always want a furry one by her side. If you’re like me, that dog delivers another lesson.

Keep those good times with your fur baby close. They are a promise to the next furry friend that you can give them a good life, too.

Next time…is it weird that I’m also in love with my cat?